Ohwofasa_Emonena

They spilled his blood to protect their crown. Now he’ll drown their kingdom in it.

Once a devoted knight of the Silver Court, Kael Morvain was betrayed by the royals he served—offered as a living sacrifice to seal a cursed blood pact. But death was only the beginning. Reborn as a vampire in the ruins of forgotten gods, Kael awakens with no soul, no mercy, and one burning purpose: vengeance.

The kingdom of Solrath flourishes on lies, its golden heir worshiped like a savior. But Kael knows the truth: the blood on their throne belongs to him.

When he kidnaps the last surviving princess, a fierce woman marked by prophecy and hiding her own monstrous bloodline, Kael’s revenge spirals into a war between old gods, cursed blood, and forbidden desire.

In a land where power is written in veins and vengeance never dies, only one truth remains:

The dead don’t forgive.
They return.

veins of vengeance

They told him he'd been unconscious for three days.

That the god-thread had gone dormant. That the Queen's last breath had turned to dust and the Hollow Throne was now a tomb of echoes.

He stared at the ceiling of the stone infirmary, watched the shadows move where no light shifted.

Inside him, something still breathed.

Not the god—not fully. But a shard. A memory. A whisper that wouldn't go quiet.

He was alive. And that should have been enough.

But she'd seen what came through the portal with him—how his blood pulsed not with rage, but silence. The kind of silence that follows mass death.

"How long do you think we have?" Liora asked beside her.

"Until he becomes the thing he just destroyed."

Selene didn't answer. She simply turned away.

He stood at the edge of the ruined balcony, shirtless and scarred, watching smoke rise from the Hollow Throne miles away. Survivors of the Queen's reign were already gathering, unsure what came next.

Old nobles whispered about a new crown.

Even the cursed lands, once barren and screaming, had begun to whisper his name.

But Ashren didn't want their worship.

And vengeance had stolen even that.

She sat across from him that night, a bottle of blackroot wine between them.

"Do you feel it still?" she asked.

He didn't deny it. "It's quiet… but not gone."

Liora's eyes narrowed. "That sounds like her talking."

"No," Ashren said. "She wanted to own the world. I just want to guard it—from what's coming next."

Liora leaned forward. "And what's coming?"

"Power doesn't die quietly. It echoes. It attracts."

In a kingdom untouched by rebellion, a cloaked priest knelt in a forgotten crypt.

He whispered an oath to a blood-well that glowed red.

"She is gone," he said. "Long live the Hollow."

And something ancient stirred beneath the stone.

Where Silence Fails